Bumping because writer's block only gets removed on way, and that's by writing.
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Not canon in this dimension
The crack of bone resonated in the dingy basement. It was a fight that began as one-sided and quickly progressed into just being a savage beating and the cheers of the onlookers had vanished as quickly as the poor elezen's teeth.
"You're sure about this, Castille?" Jenlyns didn't seem to believe the words coming out of the highlander's mouth.
"Yeah. I'm done." He had already wrapped the cord of his swordbelt around the scabbard of his weapon and presented it. "I'm not going to let any of this come back to the Order. Just go easy on me in the end."
The captain looked at Warren with confusion, but that was fine. It wouldn't take took long for a smart guy like Jenlyns to figure it out.
Warren stood, finally. It didn't hurt that the elezen looked like a certain smug Sultansworn. The highlander raised his hand and looked around the room; Rough and tumble types lined the walls and some looked angry. Some looked cowed. Some of the fans who'd come to watch the fights looked like they might be sick. The highlander checked his knuckles absently, wiping the blood off on his chest and smearing it with stained fingers. Most of it wasn't his anyway.
He finally caught eyes - he thought, anyway, it was impossible to tell with the glasses on - with the organizer of the whole shebang. If there was anything going on, if there were any underpinnings happening at this club, Warren knew the only way would be to get some attention. Quitting the Order in a blaze and taking his aggressions out on the first chump to step into the ring with him was one way. Beating him within an inch of his life was another. If the Syndicate was looking for bruisers like he suspected, he wanted to be a free agent for them.
"Who's next, Otto?"
The crack of bone resonated in the dingy basement. It was a fight that began as one-sided and quickly progressed into just being a savage beating and the cheers of the onlookers had vanished as quickly as the poor elezen's teeth.
"You're sure about this, Castille?" Jenlyns didn't seem to believe the words coming out of the highlander's mouth.
"Yeah. I'm done." He had already wrapped the cord of his swordbelt around the scabbard of his weapon and presented it. "I'm not going to let any of this come back to the Order. Just go easy on me in the end."
The captain looked at Warren with confusion, but that was fine. It wouldn't take took long for a smart guy like Jenlyns to figure it out.
Warren stood, finally. It didn't hurt that the elezen looked like a certain smug Sultansworn. The highlander raised his hand and looked around the room; Rough and tumble types lined the walls and some looked angry. Some looked cowed. Some of the fans who'd come to watch the fights looked like they might be sick. The highlander checked his knuckles absently, wiping the blood off on his chest and smearing it with stained fingers. Most of it wasn't his anyway.
He finally caught eyes - he thought, anyway, it was impossible to tell with the glasses on - with the organizer of the whole shebang. If there was anything going on, if there were any underpinnings happening at this club, Warren knew the only way would be to get some attention. Quitting the Order in a blaze and taking his aggressions out on the first chump to step into the ring with him was one way. Beating him within an inch of his life was another. If the Syndicate was looking for bruisers like he suspected, he wanted to be a free agent for them.
"Who's next, Otto?"
![[Image: yEROfKO.png]](http://i.imgur.com/yEROfKO.png)
